


Fixation

by hegemony



Category: Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: F/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 13:49:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/662704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hegemony/pseuds/hegemony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's been biting his nails a lot lately, so she's pretty sure he needs something else to put in his mouth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fixation

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle, prompts "fixation, pegging" 
> 
> Assumes knowledge to and through the end of Fast Five, including the LXA scene in the epilogue.

Madrid is beautiful. 

Renting an apartment is nothing between the two of them, a little hideaway for a month or two. He's all over her, lives in her lap some days. She's all over him, drawn like she always is to his type. It's just the two of them, the bed, the tools in the garage. They keep themselves occupied. 

He's never really gotten over smoking, she knows that, and so maybe Europe is a bit of a tease for him. Days where he goes out and smells the tease of tobacco, itches for a lucky, he crawls back to their apartment biting his fingernails, aching for the taste of her instead. She pins him to the bed, loses the panties, straddles his face and lets him have whatever he wants. His jagged fingernails claw under her skirt, his tongue nudges at her clit, and after her first orgasm every breath brings another until she's weak, and glad the fabric of her dress hides him from seeing how very lost she is in his mouth. She could not bear if he thought any less of her because of this.

They fuck the old fashion way, draped over the bed, the wireframe of her skeleton pressed delicately into the sheets. He brings her down into the garage, lays her on the LXA hood and fucks her until she screams, until it hurts to come, looking up at him watching her try so very hard not to scratch the paint as she convulses and tries to find something to grab hold of. No, she thinks, all she has is him in those moments and that's what makes them so good. 

He has her down to a science, yes, but she wonders what he needs, how she can slay his oral fixation for good. 

“Did you ever...” 

“Hmm?” he asks, leaning up in the bed. 

“It's hard to ask,” she says, sitting in front of him. 

“What?” 

“...What other things have you put in your mouth to stop thinking about cigarettes?” 

He leans up against the headboard, holds onto the wrought iron. He flashes that little smile he gives her before he says something terrible like how he loves her or how he never wants to get to Tokyo, not really, “You can't say it, can you?” 

“Have you ever done the things we do,” she pauses, swallows, “with men?” 

“Once or twice,” he shrugs. “Why?” 

She crawls forward into his lap, her chest against his. “I want to try something.” 

“Oh yeah?” he asks. 

She nods. “It won't require lube, if that's what you're wondering.” 

He laughs, “what about if I wanted it to?” 

She hesitates. “You would want that from me?” 

“Think I couldn't hang?” he asks. “Maybe I want to see the motion in your ocean.” 

“Does that line actually work?” She grins, curls in like a cat on his lap. 

“Sorry, I've never asked my girlfriend to strap it on for me,” He slides a hand into her hair, lets it tangle around his fingers. She likes the resistance, the little reminder that life is made of pinpricks of pain. “I'm new to this shit.” 

“Yeah, well I'm a little less new,” she says. 

“Really?” he asks. “You'll have to tell me all about your sapphic exploits, later.” 

She presses her legs together, stretches out against him until they're laying head to toe, and laughs, “fat chance!” 

 

 

She goes out shopping in the afternoon, finds what she wants easily and brings it back, changes into it, constantly readjusting and tending to her vision until it's perfect. She's wet for it by the end, just thinking of what she's going to do, here, and why she's gonna do it, how he's gonna lay and watch and take it. She likes that. 

He's down in the garage, and she walks there with an extra sway in her hips, something extra between her legs. 

“Hey,” He wipes his hands on a cloth and reaches for her, pulls her into his embrace. His breath catches when he finds her piece, hard and ready between the two of them. He kisses her hard, reaches down to drag a hand between her legs, tracing the lines of her cunt and the heel of the toy as it disappears inside her. “Alright, I'm interested.” 

“Didn't take much,” she points out as she pushes him down to his knees against the concrete. 

“What can I say,” he smirks. She raises the tunic she's wearing, reveals the bulge of her cock sitting there in her leggings, no straps anywhere. He reaches up, touches the inside of her thigh, drags his fingers all the way to her waistband and pulls to reveal the blushing head, an inch or two of the flesh-colored girth and sighs. 

“What?” she asks. “Did you expect it to be rainbow?” 

There's no strategy in something like that, she thinks. 

“No,” he says. “Not your style.” 

And then she realizes what he's really doing, teasing himself with the idea, testing his own waters. He pulls the rest of her leggings down at the same pace, pushes her over to the engine bay. She sits, and the bulb inside her puts pressure everywhere. She clenches and her dick twitches as he watched. 

“Fuckin' modern technology,” he says, and pushes his mouth down against the head. He leans down, takes more into his mouth, backs off. He settles into a rhythm, and she finds the thought that he's fucking himself on her sort of titillating with its muted suggestions of sensation. She sweeps his hair to the side, and smiles. 

He's tracing the vein on the underside, running his mouth against the head, pressing his lips around the girth like he wants to keep exploring and once he's done he'll pull her legs open even wider and lick at the heel inside her. She clenches with the thought, and he gags and gasps. 

“You like it?” 

He takes his time like he's weighing his answer, licks his lips and nods. “Yeah. I do.” 

“Good,” she smiles, bends down for a kiss. He tastes like nothing, and she wonders if he gets off on that, that she tastes like weight but not sweat, or skin. Smooth, textured silicone and nothing else. “And if I wanted to fuck your mouth?” 

He opens his mouth, sticks out his tongue, ready for her. 

 

 

Later, she watches him in the shower, watches him lean back against the water and open himself up, trembling as the water turns cool against overheated, focused skin. She turns the water off for him, steps into the stall, leans against him even though it ruins the river of golden glitter on her tunic. It's worth it for how she can reach down and slide long fingers inside him alongside his own, how his breath hitches and he moans for her, pushing back against her. 

“C'mon,” he whines in his throat. 

“Shh,” she soothes, flicks her fingers deeper, so deep he pulls his away, shiny with lube. She smiles, lips curled back gently and dragging against his wet skin, drinking the water falling from his wet hair. She searches for him, soothing caresses back and forth inside, and takes her free hand to press a fingertip against the head of his cock. He's burning up, body humming even though she's been nothing but gentle. She likes that, how this isn't a game of brutality. There's time for that, later. 

There's always time for brutality later. 

She finds that spot and he sobs against the tile, hiding himself from her. 

“Baby,” he whimpers high in his throat, a noise he'll deny making, later. “Baby you're gonna make me come.” 

“Maybe I want that,” she says, gently. 

The more she thinks of it, she does want that, wants him drugged on his pleasure so there's no question when she asks for Face Down, Ass Up. She wants to ease the way so the burn of them together like this doesn't chafe at the morals they're supposed to have as she fucks him face to face, holds his knees in her hands and drives in deep while he balances on her thighs. She flicks her fingers again, listens to him howl, lets the sound wash over her as it bounces against the tile. 

And he's arching into her, begging with his body and opening his thighs and, “Oh god, fuck _yes._ ” 

She reaches to take him in hand, presses a knuckle behind his sack, massages him like she's lubricating her finest weapon and when he comes she feels the recoil pressing into her shoulders, the thunderclap of his choked off moan, she knows exactly what she wants from him next, exactly how she wants it. 

 

 

She puts the harness on as he towels himself dry, scrubs at the glitter on his back. 

“You shoulda gotten in the shower with me before,” he smiles. “At least then there'd be a good chance I'm not completely covered in your shirt.” 

“Probably,” she smiles. “But I like to watch from afar.” 

He sucks her off again, lazy bobbles of his head that take more on every stroke. The toy moves inside her more, now with the support, strokes at her and mashes against her clit. She moans, wrapping her legs around him, pushing her hands into his hair. She grabs the sheets and sea-saws her hips, back and forth into his mouth as he sucks and pulls at her cock. 

She comes shivering and clenching and urgent into the underwear she's wearing, bites her lip because it's all accidental pleasure for her and she's not really the star of this show, no matter how many times Han looks at her as if she is. 

They lay there, afterward, together. When he starts biting his fingernails again, she smirks and gives him her hands instead. 

 

 

“I would like to fuck you now,” she says as she finally closes the shades, turns on a light in the corner of their bedroom. “If you want that.” 

“Shit, you gotta ask?” he smirks. “Been a while, though. How do you want me.” 

She would like to see the strong black hair that dances across his thighs and back and ass. She would like to see the way she enters him, the way he loosens himself around her and makes room for her. She wouldn't mind that much at all. 

“It has been a while,” she says, pulling out the condom, preparing the lube and herself. “How about you ride me?” 

He pauses, throws a pillow down onto the bed. “I wouldn'tve expected that.”

“Oh, but you expected the rest?” she asks. “You thought of me like this before?” 

“A little,” he shrugs, reaches to her to lube her up. “Thought you'd get a harness and a cock I could fuck you through. You'd teach me some of those Israeli martial arts of yours, whoever landed on bottom got fucked.” 

“Sounds like a nice game,” she answers. “But you would still end up getting fucked.” 

“Yeah,” he nods, and straddles her, folds himself up. “Yeah, I would.” 

There's a moment for organizing themselves, and then he's teasing himself, rolling her around, sliding back and taking her in. The room falls quiet. She looks down to watch herself disappear in him, but gets distracted, at how hard he is, how his muscles move, how he's up straight and already dripping with arousal. 

His breath hitches, and then she can feel the pressure of him against her. 

“Yeah,” he groans, and fucks himself on her slowly, rolls his hips and pulls hers along. The bulb inside her throbs as it shifts back and forth inside her. 

“Good?” she asks. 

He smiles, really smiles and says breathlessly, “I want you to fuck me now.” 

She's not really sure how they get onto his back, but once they're there she can finally move her hips as his grind to a halt. A moment to breathe, and then she's fucking into him like he's spent so long inside her. Slow, and quick in a roller-coaster ride of pleasure. And then she stops completely, before she finds herself falling over the edge too soon. 

He's panting, sweating now, staring up at him. 

“Please,” he groans. “I want...” 

“Hold on,” she says, leans back and finds the spot he really wants. 

“Oh fuck,” he chokes out, wraps his legs around her waist and drags himself up and down mindlessly, chasing the sensation. He looks good that way, lulled into the best feeling he's ever had. “Please, god yes.” 

“Thought you'd like that,” she smirks, feels herself clench and burn over it. 

“Touch me,” he groans. And she feels generous so she leans her weight on his legs, reaches forward for his cock, strokes dutifully from root to tip. 

He holds out, admirably, and she's surprised by herself that she has to stop, come, her body jerking against his. He reaches up to her, pulls her down against him, kisses her and holds her through the jerking aftershocks. 

“Don't you know it's rude to come before I do?” he asks, teasing, and she grins and leans down and strokes him, cocks her hips and puts blinding pressure on him, kisses him as his moans turn to whimpers and his toes curl and he arches into her and lets go of himself, cleaved open on her. 

“You look very pretty like that,” she says. 

He looks up at her and scowls. “We'll have to do it again, then. See if I can't be more manly.” 

“You'll look pretty then, too,” she smirks, undoing the knot of his body around her so she can slip out before he starts to complain. 

Cleanup is as surgical a strike as always, economic. She cleans the come from his stomach, makes sure the damage isn't too bad and stands back to appreciate her work. She doesn't take the harness off, or the toy out, but gets rid of the condom and comes to lay back down with him on the bed. 

She opens the dresser, pulls out a carton. 

“Luckies, aww man really?” he asks, throws an arm over his eyes. “I didn't even know you smoked.” 

“I don't,” she says peels back the wrapper, taps the carton and susses out two. 

“I don't--” 

“Relax,” she laughs. “They're made of sugar.” 

She slips one into his mouth, lets it hang off his lips. He pulls it into his mouth, sucks at the end. Root beer flavored, she can taste it in her mouth, too. 

He pulls it out with his hand and smiles, holding it appreciatively between his fingers as he flicks his other hand through her hair. “You're too good to me.” 

“Yeah,” she says, laying back. “I am.”


End file.
